A Chronology of Every Bad Decision Loki Ever Got Involved In
by Faceplanted
Summary: "Chi-children?" Loki blinked. "H-Hel, Jor, Fen? How-how are you-?" "Hello, father." Rage bubbled in his chest, and he stared at Hel, eyes hard. "What is this?" "Ragnarok, father. This is vengeance." Or, the rather convoluted story of how Loki's children decide that ending the world is the best naming-day gift for their father. (It seems like crack, I guess, but it isn't)
1. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

**(In which precautionary measures are ill-begotten, and the world witnesses what may be the beginning of the end.)**

XXX

No.

No.

No, no, no.

Of all cruelties-

"They are _children!_" the anguished scream rented the silence.

_Children, babies, _his _babies, his darlings, lights of his life, why-why-why_

_Fenris, Jormagundr, Hela-_

_-you already robbed me of Sleipnir, why_

Odin sat on his throne-_the monster that dared call himself his father, tyrant, HIS BABIES-_watching his son (_I am no son of yours, how could you do this) _sob with heartbroken abandon, Thor holding him back.

Loki struggled to release himself from the iron grip, raging and snarling and weeping with all the chaotic wrath of a spurned parent.

"_YOU TOOK MY CHILDREN! WHY IN THE NORNS DID YOU TAKE MY CHILDREN?"_

"Loki—"Odin started, only to be interrupted by a barrage of curses in a number of languages, one melding into the other haphazardly.

"MY BABIES!" Loki roared, pain colouring his tones. "_Why?_"

The King _(oh, the _great _Odin-King, he who would shun his second-born, he who would steal his own grandchildren from their beds) _sighed, as though he was a parent dealing with a particularly bad tantrum (_but what would he know of parenting, that one-eyed hypocrite upon his golden throne). _Loki eventually quieted, composure stealing over his face, transforming it into a cold mask. Thor looked uncertainly at the way his brother breathed in jaggedly, and exhaled with a strange calm.

(_The calm before the storm)_

He looked not to his father _(what have I ever done to you, to warrant this) _but to the Queen _(why, mother) _who stood next to him, eyes shining with unshed tears. Her hands were clasped in front of her, face uncharacteristically stern. Only the curious brightness of her eyes gave her away.

"What," said Loki quietly, eyes raging-crying-imploring _(why why why) _her, "have I done this time, mother? To cause such retribution?"

Frigga opened her mouth, and closed it.

Odin sighed.

"Loki, you beget monsters," he said wearily. "They are not worthy…of the royal lineage…"

_(Not worthy? Never worthy, am I?)_

_(My children are beautiful, blind fool; they are wonderful, perfect, BRING THEM BACK)_

Loki's eyes narrowed, and he raised an eyebrow. "You believe anything in the slightest conjunction with me is unworthy, All-father."

_(Don't even deny it)_

_(Never worthy, always second-best, shadow to Thor, what worth have I)_

_(MY BABIES BRING THEM BACK BRING THEM BACK)_

_(Do anything else, not my babies)_

_(Take me instead)_

"Tell me the truth," Loki whispered. "Please, what have I done?"

_(What could warrant this?)_

"It is not what you have done," the All-father said. "Nor is it what anyone has done. It is more a question of what _will_ be done."

And Loki felt what would commonly be termed as _murderous intent. _

Or _utter chaotic rage. _Quite possibly with a bit of _are you really that stupid? _

"You mean to tell me," said Loki in a dangerously low voice, barely supressing the urge to stab the All-father and take his babies back, "that you stole my babies from me because of a _prophecy?"_

_(Of all reasons-)_

_(-if they so much as scratch as single of Jormagundr's scales, there will be patricide done.)_

"They are to bring about Ragnarok," said Odin gravely. "Our ends will be brought about by your children, Loki."

Loki spat, actually spat, at the foot of the king's throne. "Prophecies aren't set in stone!" he snarled.

"We can take no chances!" Odin growled, eye narrowing, his hand clenching on his spear.

"If it were the offspring of your precious _Thor," _came the scathing response, "this conversation would not even happen!"

"That's an invalid point, because Thor would never father _monsters!_"

"_THEY ARE NOT MONSTERS!"_

A sharp silence followed Loki's shout.

"You are blinded by love—"Odin started, only to be cut off by Loki yet again.

"-then you are the _grandfather _of monsters!" he cried. "They are your _grandchildren, _father please…"

Odin's hard gaze softened, as Loki dissolved into pained, shuddering sobs. "…my word is final, Loki. They will be contained, but well taken care of."

And with that, he tapped his spear on the ground with a resounding noise, and it was made thus.

_(Forgive me, my children, lights-of-my-life)_

_(Perhaps I _am_ unworthy)_

**Note: So, huzzah, I am back. After a year long hiatus. I am back. **

**About this little...er, whatever this is; this is just the beginning, by the way. A prologue. I know this has been done and overdone so often the masses are about to puke, but bear with me, mkay?**


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

**(In which children are born and a child becomes a** **father)**

Sleipnir was his first child.

He was the result of a rather trying disaster involving a builder, a much-needed wall, an ill-advised bet with Freyja's hand, the sun and the moon at stake, and Loki being a child with magical abilities and a terrible thirst to prove himself.

To be honest, he did not expect it. Especially not when he was still a child himself, barely of age…

But, oh, did he love the long-legged colt, with his lovely, soulful dark eyes and his sweet not-words. He had loved him since his birth, all long, wobbly legs and soft whinnies. He had eight legs, his darling beautiful one, but Loki did not mind, only watched with lovelorn eyes as the colt danced at the edges of his shadow, never straying too far from him.

Sleipnir had followed him everywhere, the sweet thing. He would chase butterflies in haphazard circles, but would always gravitate back toward him, sometimes with some measure of fright, as though he feared that Loki would not be there if he looked away for too long. They kept their distance from Asgard at first, as Loki was well aware that the All-Father would not react favourably to the child.

And when his little one could run away from Loki, even if he did come sprinting back after a few moments, and could reliably spend some on his own time without something too awful occuring, he went back to Asgard.

That…was not the best idea.

He would never forget the hurt of having his Sleipnir ripped away from him, of seeing the All-Father announce that he would be his prized stallion.

It hurt. Far worse than anything this Realm had thrown at him so far, it hurt.

But Sleipnir knew nothing of what was happening, would be treated well, and Loki was willing to do what was best for Asgard and the House of Odin-his father would never forgive him if he wrought _more _scandal upon the family.

And so he let his first child go, and allowed his heart to break in silence.

Then, Angrboda happened.

Or, more accurately, Loki became increasingly weary of Asgard and its impeccable perfection and its gleaming golden hallways, and its general lack of love for its second-prince. He grew tired of the taunting and challenging and the unappreciating attitude that they had, even when he had _saved all of their lives countless times _and their derision toward his magic.

So, he stole a horse (not Sleipnir, because this could end in disaster and he would die before placing his child in danger) and simply left.

He was still a boy, and a prince. This indicates that he had absolutely no idea how to survive in the wilderness, much less on Midgard, where he had spent only a limited amount of time…Which in turn indicates that navigating the branches of Ygdrassil and its hidden paths while in a fit of rage does not end well.

Well, to be fair, he had been attempting to avoid Heimdall, the All-Father, and his bumbling oaf of a brother _and_ calming a disgruntled horse _and_ coaxing the fabric between Realms open to let him through _while also _explaining to Sleipnir that no, he wasn't hurt, he only needed to be away from there for a time. Some amount of liberty can be granted.

However, ridiculously trying circumstances or no, the fact remained that he was well and stuck in the middle of a forest with a suspicious horse and a headache.

Then he came upon a rather pretty woman catching fish by a stream, who immediately proceeded to push a spear at Loki's abdomen and demand to know who he was.

She was a Giantess, and a fierce one, and Loki was tired beyond comprehension, so he (for once) told the truth. He was a Prince of Asgard, he was stupid, and he had run away.

She was greatly amused by his tale, and allowed him to watch while she fished. She also heard the rather embarrassingly loud rumble of his belly, and asked him if he could skin a fish.

No, he could not.

Well, this only served to amuse the Giantess further, and she taught him how, and to his surprise, he found that he did not mind the work. He was enjoying himself, the horse was quiet, and he had been accepted by the Giantess for dinner. He conjured a fire, she gave him the most unimpressed look one could sport while suppressing a smile, and taught him how to cook it as well.

Her name was Angrboda.

She asked him whether he had a place to stay, and he told her that he may possess more wit than his brother, but he did tend to think very little at times.

She smiled again and allowed him into her home. She said he could stay for one night, but she never asked him to leave and he found that he did not want to. He made himself useful, helping her while she taught him what to do. He found a talent for woodcarving, which she never made jest of, which he, in turn, appreciated.

Little Loki, she called him. Soft Loki, Sweet Loki, Loki-Child, she said, Little Loki who welded words the way one might weld metal, into tools and weapons and gifts. Soft Loki, who found himself being happier than he had ever been, who even came to love the Midgardians that lived in the small village nearby. He still played his tricks, and she watched as they became less malicious and more amusing over the years.

Years passed, and he found himself well and deeply in love with her. Surprisingly, she returned the sentiment. When he proposed, she only sighed and asked him why it took so long for him to ask. He pouted and insisted that he had needed the right words.

Hel was his second child.

She was born with flesh that rotted partially on one side, mottled grey a stark contrast to the ivory of the rest of her. Her eyes were a dual colour, one a filmy grey, the other a vibrant green.

They were worried that she may be ill, but adored her all the same.

She was not ill, as she developed the way any normal babe would have, and showed the first signs of magical ability very early on, which made Loki absolutely ecstatic with joy. He and Boda expanded their little hut to accommodate a child, and Loki set about being a father, properly this time, and it amused Boda no end that he spent so much time carving various toys for her and playing with her and teaching her magic.

You spoil her, she sighed, but did nothing to stop it. Because he was so utterly happy, and he radiated joy in a way that warmed her heart.

Once it became apparent that her condition did not actually harm her, and Loki was unsure of how that came to be, they paid no mind to it. The villagers were quite sure that the pair of them were not ordinary by their standards anyway, and while they did take some time to get used to Hel's appearance, they took it admirably in stride.

How could anyone hate her? Loki might be biased, but Hel was a beautiful child.

Jormagundr came next.

Neither of them were entirely sure of how he and Boda had even managed to produce a serpent, but he was their child, and they loved him no less. He was larger than expected, but developed shape-shifting abilities that way his elder sister had developed her powers of mind-magic (oh, Loki was absolutely _giddy _with excitement) and could take a man-form for days at a time.

Jor and Hel were pulled into their father's version of fun at an early age, which Boda pretended to be annoyed at, but secretly loved. They learnt to weave stories spectacularly, and played tricks with him so often that Boda found herself pretending to drive the three of them out of the house in fits of mock-rage.

Then came Fenris.

Fen was a wolf-pup, and it seemed destined that their children would be of the bizarre variety, but he seemed the very embodiment of he and Boda's more playful side, and they loved him the way they loved the other two; unflinchingly and unconditionally. The fact that he was a wolf made no sense, and was discussed at great length along with Jor and Hel until Loki nearly went mad _not knowing_.

The phrase 'curiosity killed the cat' or any variation thereof was officially banned from their home very early on, as decreed by Boda. It worried her. Well, anyone would be right to worry, if their husband was the cat.

Fen did not have any magical ability, but he did have remarkable strength, and he was reminded of Thor, and therefore of Asgard, which he pushed out of his mind because Asgard was behind him now.

(Or so he thought)

Anyway, he found himself growing up along with his children, as he learned responsibility and that setting fire to things simply because he was bored was not an acceptable action.

He went from Loki, Second Prince of Asgard and child to Loki, Husband, Father of three and Local Wood-Carver. (Apparently, the children of the village quite loved his toys.) He forgot Asgard, he honestly did.

Save for the occasional thunderstorm, which would prompt him to flinch at loud noises and take refuge under the bed-furs (and his children learned that their father was a child as much as they, and comforted him during these times, while their mother alternated between berating him for his childishness and gently soothing him), he was happy.

Even the horse, named Mael by Hel, was reasonably content, as the family horse and Fenris's occasional romping mate. And Loki was quite sure that Mael was generally quite hard to please (he was certain that he used to be Sif's horse, which explained the utter stubbornness and lack of cheer the horse exuded) so that was quite something.

But the universe had evidently deemed that he cannot be happy for any length of time without it going dreadfully wrong, which would explain why he awoke one night to three empty beds and a near-hysterical wife.

The lingering smell of magic that seemed staunchly reminiscent of golden halls and self-proclaimed omniscient kings caused him to soothe Boda and mount Mael before all but ripping open the secret paths and making a mad dash for Asgard.

* * *

**Note: So, it may come to your notice that Loki is the slightest bit out of character. Well, in both his and my defense, he's still pretty much the pre-Thor and innocent-ish Loki. Except more so, since he's a helluva lot younger. Also, I'd love some criticism telling me what the hell I'm doing, since I've never really written Loki before. Or even anywhere remotely in this fandom. Going from Hetalia writing to Thor writing is a bit jarring, even with the huge gap.**


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

**(In which a boy grows up, and happiness turns out to be a lie that could fool even the Liesmith)**

He left Asgard as soon as he could, slipping between the twining branches of the Tree whilst spurring Mael to speeds that he was not entirely sure that the animal would have been able to achieve under normal circumstances.

He could not see, could not think, could only feel the ache and pain and the why-why-why that chorused in his mind, and allowed the paths of old to guide him home. He felt tears, but what use were they?

_(Face the truth, Liesmith. You are a failure in even this.)_

He had to get them back, his children. It was imperative, he needed them back.

_(What use are you, father of falsehoods? She will hate you, they all hate you, what being could possibly love one such as you?)_

Ragnarok, he said? If they hurt any of his children, the end of the world would be the least of their worries. He would fell the Tree itself.

"Loki?" Boda was as panicked and perhaps even more wrathful than he. "What happened? Where are they?"

"Odin," Loki said quietly, and he noted with some amount of derision that his voice was hoarse from all his earlier screaming. What a sight he must have looked, nothing but a child with some magic after all.

"He took them," he whispered.

"Your father?" she frowned. "The _All-Father_? But what does he want with them, did he take them?"

"He says they are to be the end-bringers. He says they are monsters."

There was some silence, in which she regarded his face with a mixture of rage and utter horror. He knew it was not directed at him, but it did not lessen the sting. "You believe this?"

"The All-Father's word is final," he sighed. Then, he clenched his teeth and ground out, "I am willing to commit treason for them."

Silence again, wherein they both acknowledged the end of their idyllic time together, of Loki's man-child days and her days with a family once again.

"Do what you must, Little Loki," she said, eyes heavy. "But remember that you have your worth as well. A dead father is of no use."

_And a negligent one even worse, _he thought, and was unsure whether the venom was directed at Odin or himself.

He left after embracing her fiercely, and with the staunch promise of his return. She smiled and accepted it, though they both knew it to be a lie.

"Fare well, my sweet Silvertongue."

He never saw Angrboda the Giantess again, nor did he ever hear of her.

* * *

His failure at freeing his children was due to a number of things.

For one, it had been years since he'd last practiced magic for anything besides illusions and minor household tasks. He was weak, and he was too caught up in his rage and hurt to feel it. For another, his father seemed to be well aware of the manner in which his mind worked, and it only took him eighteen months to reclaim his wayward son. There was also the fact that a mother's tears were the worst sort of blackmail, but the role this played was minor, since he had Boda's face at the forefront of his mind.

Of course the gracious king pardoned his misconduct, and allowed him back into the palace with a smile that contained far too much steel to be real.

Loki screamed and raged and brought a famine upon Asgard and did all sorts of spiteful things, because his daughter was banished to the Realm of the Damned, and one of his sons was chained and muzzled like a beast with a sword cutting through his gums and the other unceremoniously dumped into Midgard's oceans.

But a year burned him out with a painful efficiency, and he soon found himself living that pretty farce that he had lived before Boda. He missed their tiny hut in the godforsaken wilderness, and craved the noise of tiny feet and playful yips and the soft songs that Boda sang to whisk the lot of them off to sleep and their thunder-storm huddles beneath the bed-furs and swimming with Jor and failing to keep up with Fen and determining which of the many clones before him was truly his daughter….

…by all the Norns, it hurt. It hurt and he missed them and her and it hurt with the ferocity of a thousand armies.

_(It hurt even more that everything in Asgard went on as seamlessly as before, with no heed to the pain-pain-pain and the awful crime that had been committed. The Warriors Three and Sif still treated him the same, Thor still remained the painfully obtuse idiot…things stagnated here, and it was painful to see)_

_(he felt like he was centuries older than before. It had only been two or three decades)_

_(he felt older than them, older than his elder brother and his stupid friends, that can't be right, but this pain felt ancient)_

_(he was dying)_

_(he wanted to die)_

_("A dead father is of no use.")_

_(What of a father that cannot even protect his children?)_

_("You're too young," his mother says. "A child still, Loki. How can you have children when you are still a child?")_

_(He didn't feel like a child)_

_(He felt too old) _

_(It hurt)_

* * *

Then, funnily enough, Sygin happened.

Or, more accurately, he stole himself a bride. In his defence, she hated her suitors and was not opposed to aforementioned kidnapping. One might wonder what possessed him to kidnap a Vanir princess out of the blue, but…

…well, the only justification he could ever come up with was that she was far too gorgeous for Thrym and the other bastard vying for her hand. And she was consenting, even went so far as to instruct him on how she wanted to be stolen.

They got married whilst giggling like children, falling over one another in mirth as they imagined the looks on the Aesir and Vanir rulers' faces once they found out what he had done this time.

(_he lied. He chose her because she made him forget)_

_(she made him feel like himself)_

_(with her, the boy who fell in love with a stranger in the woods became alive again)_

_(of course, he chose to ignore that it was that very boy that caused so much hurt)_

His father threw a fit, his brother remained incredibly surprised at the fact that he was able to get a woman at all, his 'friends' snorted at the fact that he stole her (when , in truth, it was she that all but ordered him to do so) and his mother was frighteningly happy about the whole affair.

Sigyn was loyal.

She was incredibly devoted, and while they did not pass their days in idyllic joy, they were happy. They lived in a palace, not a tiny hut in the forest, and she knew nothing of fishing or hunting or needlework. But, she knew horses and laughed at his general silliness, and actually helped him with his pranks. She curbed him when he was getting too vicious, and let him cry.

Every time it thundered, she would stay under the sheets with him. They did nothing, just breathed.

He brooded for days on end. He went into fits of pique, and raged constantly. There was the affair with Brokk, and that disaster with his brother losing his hammer. And he was angry, always angry. She soothed the flames, helped him calm down.

She was quiet. She was sweet.

She wasn't Boda, would never be Boda. But he loved her.

_(wasn't it good, that she wasn't Boda? Because the boy she loved had died)_

_(instead, there was a man afraid of thunder, and who possessed a tongue that cut deep)_

Once, he got a little tipsy and went to a feast, and pointed out every single ugly truth he could see.

_(that was the funny thing about being the God of Lies.)_

_(He can see lies)_

_(And all he has to do is point out the truths hidden here and there)_

_(And then they pull the world down around their ears)_

They had children.

Well, it took them almost a decade. Sigyn waited patiently until he was at ease with the idea of children before she asked. He thought about it, and admitted that he didn't just want them, he needed them.

…Which is how Vali and Narfi happened.

They were twins, and remarkably normal. That is, until their parents found that the twins were shape-shifters, which lead to Sygin being incredibly exasperated (and secretly thrilled) that Loki was so enthusiastic about it. He literally began training them as soon as they could crawl.

Vali could shift into a serpent (which made Loki wince at first) before he could walk. And Narfi could take the skin of a wolf (which made Loki wistful) before his first word.

He was happy, almost.

Until, of course, Baldr.

Happiness, he found, was the cruellest lie he had ever come across.

* * *

**Note: Okay, so this is shorter than I'd hoped. And I would love some help, I'm flailing on my own here.**


End file.
